“I’ll make time to ink a little butterfly on your shoulder before I shut down for the day. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds lame. I’ll decide what I want and where I want you to put it.”
God, I knew exactly what I wanted to give her and just where I wanted to put it, but my thoughts had moved way past tattoos. “I’ll see you in the morning, Sunshine. Get a good night’s sleep.”
The door softly closed behind me. I stood in the hall for several minutes, fighting the ache inside to knock on her door and offer to tuck her in. Damn, I was a bastard. The only way to work that heat from my system was to punish myself. I left Rae inside the cabin and headed out to the woodpile.
Holding the axe in my hand, my blood pressure lowered. This wasn’t the first time I’d attacked the woodpile in an effort to exorcise thoughts of Rae from my system. Every time I came out here, I wished it would be the last. I was a sonofabitch for even imagining I was worthy of running my hands over her smooth skin.
The sound of my axe striking wood brought little relief. For the next two hours, I worked up enough of a sweat that I had to tear off my jacket and chop wood in nothing but a drenched t-shirt. Still, it wasn’t enough. Visions of Rae standing in the doorway in that barely there nightgown taunted and teased me.
I took to the shower, so desperate for relief that I fisted my thick cock in my hand. She was just on the other side of the bathroom door, probably sound asleep and blissfully unaware of the monster jerking himself off a few feet away. I couldn’t help it. Hers was the face I pictured as I pumped my shaft through my fist.
Imagining I was sinking into her sweet pussy had my eyes rolling back in my head. Thick ropes of cum sprayed over the tiles. The water poured down on me, washing evidence of my release down the drain.
I cut the water and toweled off, unable to keep my mind from drifting to how Rae would look coming out of the shower. How her wet hair would flow in long strands over her shoulders and between her breasts.
Fuck. Less than two minutes after blowing my load, I was hard again. I wrapped my towel around my waist, determined to suffer. Letting myself jack off while picturing her hands running all over me deserved some sort of penance. I needed to get her out of my house and out of my head.
Vowing to do both, I pulled on a pair of sweats and headed to my office. Thunder had trailed those two losers out of town. If they really weren’t around, there was no reason for Rae to continue to stay at my place.
Me: Hey. What’s the update on Savage Bones?
Thunder: Trailed them to White Haven then turned around and came home. I think they’re long gone.
Me: Thanks, brother.
They were probably headed out to L.A. to try to salvage their big deal. I’d take Rae to the studio tomorrow, then stop by her place after. If all looked to be in order, I’d leave her there with a guy posted outside to keep watch. It wasn’t fair to force her to stay with me. She had better things to do than entertain an old man.
Convinced I was doing the right thing—the honorable thing—I laid down on the couch and begged for sleep.
CHAPTER8
RAE
I wasready to give up. Clearly, Priest didn’t want me. The way he’d walked away from me last night when I stood in the doorway, practically begging him to touch me, proved it. We had one more day together, then he’d take me back to my place and leave me with one of his MC brothers to keep an eye on me.
He was the one I wanted.
This afternoon was my last chance to see if I could get him to see me as someone more than the girl I used to be. In my heart, I believed we were meant to be together. I just needed to convince him. Should be easy enough. Like rolling a five-ton boulder straight up the mountain. The impossibility of a task like that made me smile.
“What’s so funny?” Priest glanced over from where he perched on the edge of a stool.
“Nothing.” I sat in his chair, flipping through an idea book of tattoos, though I already knew what I wanted and exactly where I wanted him to touch me.
Two other artists who’d been working all day hollered a goodbye on their way out the door. Van Gogh stopped in to let us know he was leaving as well and would lock up on his way out. That meant Priest and I were alone in the shop. A deep ache pulsed between my thighs.
“Did you decide on something?” He’d been distracted with getting his equipment cleaned up after his last client and barely paid me any attention.
“Yes.” I pulled out a picture he’d drawn for me years ago, wondering if he’d remember. “Can you do something like this? I want it on my hip.”
His gaze drifted over the hand-drawn image of the sun. Curly rays extended from a dark orange center. I’d added his initials into each one of the curves. Every ray held a “JP” that was impossible to miss.
“You’re joking, right Rae?” His forehead creased, and he shifted his gaze from the picture to meet mine. “You don’t want this as a permanent mark on your body.”
He’d been visiting my dad on leave when he drew the picture. I must have been about twelve years old and completely infatuated with him. We’d spent hours hunched over the kitchen table while he taught me how to capture images I saw in my head on paper. I’d known then he had artistic talent.
“I do.” Lifting my butt up off the chair, I slid my pants down over my hips. “I think it would look good right here.”
